South Ashfield Heights: A Silent Hill Fanfiction
by Bridget A. Brimer
Summary: Henry Townshend moves from Silent Hill to Ashfield to be closer to his workplace, learning some strange rumors in the process. (Disclaimer: All rights go to respective owners of Silent Hill the game series, Konami, Team Silent, etc. I do not own rights to Silent Hill.)


Henry drove through the cloudy countryside. It was fairly warm and he didn't have any air conditioning, so he rolled his window down, letting the fresh breeze tumble his hair as he drove across the Toluca Lake Bridge.

 _I hope Frank doesn't mind that I'm running a little behind,_ thought Henry _, I guess it doesn't matter. He said he'd be there all evening._

Driving over the middle of the bridge now, Henry began to feel a bit dizzy. Heights had always challenged him.

 _Have to focus,_ thought Henry as he drove.

The dizziness began to subside as Henry could now see the sign for Ashfield, the city he was moving to. It wasn't that far from Silent Hill, the city he was leaving for who knew how long. A local newspaper in Ashfield had hired him as a photographer. He figured moving to Ashfield was the best bet; he never really liked driving long distances to work even if it didn't seem too far to other people.

Henry made his way into the city street by street, passing the shops, restaurants, and people walking on the ragged cracked sidewalks. Many of the people looked a bit downtrodden or tired.

 _Okay, left on Almann Street, then right on 8th Avenue,_ Henry thought to himself _, then the building should be on the left._

It began to rain lightly and Henry turned on his wipers. He turned onto 8th Avenue and he could see the apartment building. He waited at the intersection next to Restaurant Fuseli, watching the people walk in and out of the doors and the diners inside talk under the golden lights behind the massive windows.

The light flicked to green and Henry turned left onto Cooper Road and then quickly turned right between the two brick decorative pillars into the parking lot of the apartment building. The parking lot was fairly closed in, the dark brick building forming a "U" around the lot. On the right end of the building a fence separated the lot from the sidewalk. On the left, the small garages lined the end of the building. Ahead, the doors sat in the darkened section out of all light as it was approaching 6 P.M. The building had three floors, the windows evenly spaced that had some grime with a horizontal partition in the center.

Henry maneuvered the car into a parking space on the right. He turned the ignition and took the keys. Then he looked past the fence to the sky seeing the big red letters atop a huge building spelling out "Hotel South Ashfield," then down to the sidewalk as a man in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans passed by toward Restaurant Fuseli. His eyes followed the man to the greenish railing that enclosed a descending cement stair set which led to the subway tunnels of South Ashfield Station.

Henry got out of the car and swung the door shut. He looked around as he walked toward the doors of the complex. Above the doors a sleek sign, a black plate with bronze letters read "South Ashfield Heights." A small grass edge bordered the apartment and separated it from the lot. From the grass grew a few thin dark scraggly trees spaced oddly which reached up past the windows, the few leaves left on them jittering slightly in the breeze. The rain still fell but he didn't mind much. _What the hell's a little water?_ he thought.

As Henry approached the two wide short cement steps up to the raised cement platform leading to the doors, the lamp post to the right suddenly turned on as if to welcome him, the light reflecting off the fire escape behind that ascended in front of three of the windows.

Henry stepped up the little steps and walked to the doors. The door's wooden frame and partitions which created little squares of glass shined dimly reddish brown in the light of the lamp. He grabbed the thick black door handle and opened the door; it groaned lightly.

Once inside the big lobby, Henry closed the door. He looked up at the bright crystalline chandelier up on the high ceiling and big staircase winding around up to the other floors. Everywhere the thin brown carpet ruled; it smelled a bit musty. The silver mailboxes were mounted on the wall to the left.

 _Let's see… Sunderland's place, 105… that was over here,_ thought Henry as he walked to the dark wooden double doors to the right. As he opened the door, it creaked briefly.

Henry thought, _I need to keep in mind that this was the only place available near work. I don't care how worn out everything seems to be. Besides, the chandelier is a nice aspect. Even having a place of my own is a nice aspect, really._

Walking down the dim hall to 105, Henry knocked evenly three times. No answer. He waited a few seconds. As he raised his hand to knock again, the door opened.

"Hello," said the man, "Are you Henry, uh… Townshend?"

"Yes. Where's Frank at? Isn't he around?"

"Yeah he's here. He just had to run to somebody's room for something. Seems like there's always some weird issue around here. Anyway, come on in. I'm James, Frank's son."

"Good to meet you," said Henry, shaking James' hand and then stepping into the apartment.

The room was just like Henry remembered it, fairly dark, the tall dark cabinet on the left and the desk on the far right-hand corner and key rack up next to it on the wall. A small dim desk lamp illuminated the dark desk; Henry knew Frank Sunderland had sensitive eyes.

James sauntered over to the big bookshelf across the room and sat in a cushioned chair in the left corner opposite the desk. He swiped his dark blonde hair to the side and lit a Camel. He glanced out the window at the old factory under the cloudy dreary sky, exhaling the smoke through his wide thin lips. His squinty puffy tired green eyes examined Henry.

Henry looked around some more. Both men stayed quiet now, nearly to the point of awkwardness.

Henry fidgeted a little, and then walked towards the cabinet. He looked at himself in the mirror, at his thick side swiped medium length brown hair, sturdy lips, smallish nose, and slightly almond shaped dark brown eyes. The stubble showed on his young complexion as he hadn't shaved in a couple days.

"So…" said James, "Where you from?" in his soft hesitant tone.

"Silent Hill. I've lived there quite a while. But I got a job in Ashfield so I moved."

"Oh..." said James, "Silent Hill, huh?"

"Yeah..." said Henry, shifting his weight.

"I'm taking my Mary there in a couple weeks," said James, "She's always talking about it. Real nice scenery."

"Yeah... it is. I've taken lots of pictures there."

"Photographer?" James said with interest.

"Yeah," said Henry.

Suddenly James and Henry could hear shouting in the hallway.

"That sounds like dad," said James, "Wonder what's up."

He could overhear Frank saying angrily, "…and if you bother Rachel again, I swear I'll evict you. You got that?"

James and Henry heard a door slam and then footsteps sound nearer.

The door to the room swung open and there was Frank. He shut the door and said in his tired seesawing voice, "Oh hey, Henry. I'll get you situated here. I'm sure you've already got acquainted with my boy James here."

Frank looked fairly wrinkly but the age hadn't set in too severely yet despite the radical pure white hair. He moved carefully over to the desk and key rack. He said softly, "Let's see…ah, here's 302." He turned to Henry and gave him the keys.

"You okay dad?" asked James, "I heard you arguing in the hall."

"Yeah I'm fine. It was just that Mike again. I swear he's stalking Rachel, somethin' like that. She keeps complainin' about him sending her letters in her mailbox and showing up at her door sometimes after she gets home from work. She can't _stand_ it. Well, I can't either. It's… really quite odd. Keep an eye out for him, Henry."

" _Oh,_ " said Henry, surprised, "Yeah. Really weird."

"So Henry, there's your keys," said Frank, "You can get your things together. If you need help unloading anything, I bet my James here'll help ya' out. Don't ask _me_ though. My back is weaker than it used to be."

"Sure," said James, "Don't have anything else to do today."

"Don't you work?" asked Henry.

"Yes. I do," said James, "But today's my day off. Just came to visit dad, have a few smokes, and kinda' screw around awhile… Have you been to restaurant Fuseli? Their Italian is obscenely good."

"No, not yet. It's a big place isn't it? What's your job?"

"I'm a clerk in an office on the other side of town."

"Oh ok," said Henry, "Well, I'm off. Thanks, Frank."

"No problem," said Frank, "Let us know if ya' need a hand."

"Good to meet you," said James, "Have a good day. I'll probably see you around."

"Okay, thanks. It was nice to meet you too."

Frank and James gave Henry a wave goodbye and then Henry waved back and turned to reach for the door handle. He then closed 105's door behind him, stepping into the hallway.

Henry made his way back down the hallway and through the big doors out to the lobby. He turned left and went back outside. He walked swiftly down the small steps and to his car.

 _Man, how am I going to get all this stuff up to third floor? Maybe I_ will _need help for that dresser and T.V. set,_ thought Henry as he looked at the pile of items in his little trailer, _I'll just get some of my small boxes first, I guess. Then I can go ask James for some help._

So, Henry brought his first box in, carefully walking through the lot and back to the door. He made his way through the lobby, glancing over at the metal mailboxes. He stepped onto the staircase and heard a door close. Carrying the box up and up, trampling on the grungy brown carpet, he reached the second floor. On both sides of the landing stood big double doors to the second floor rooms. Henry went left and then left again, stepping onto the stairs to continue to third floor. When he finally reached third floor, he saw there were big double doors to the right and the left as on second floor. Henry went right to go to his room. He opened the door and walked down the hall. Then he turned left at the bend and continued to his room.

 _Here it is,_ thought Henry.

The dark silver plate on the door read "302."

Henry set the box down and got his keys out of his jeans pocket. He unlocked the door, then stepped in and flipped the light switch. He went and got the box and went back in the apartment's small entryway. He carried it to the long bar style counter that formed around the edge of the kitchen to the left in an "L" shape. He set it on the counter and took a deep breath.

 _There. That's in, at least. Maybe I should get the furniture next before it gets too cluttered in here_ , he thought.

Henry stood a while, looking around at the room. He walked over to the opposite wall and turned on the light for the living room which also turned on the old dark worn out fan in the middle of the ceiling. There were two windows on the far wall. In the main entryway off the kitchen stood the laundry room door, and next to that the hallway led to the bedroom and bathroom.

Henry stretched his hands into the air and yawned. He watched the fan spin swiftly above, saw some leaves blow by the window. He turned around and then went back out the door, locking it, and shoving the keys in his pocket. Then he went back down the hallway, through the double doors, and down the staircase. When he reached the lobby, he saw a man opening one of the mailboxes, the keys jingling and tapping the metal.

"Hello," said Henry.

The man turned as Henry approached. He wore dress clothes including an odd tie with an angelic woman's face on it. He appeared middle-aged with greyish brown hair, angry or irked, his blue saggy eyes squinting and hard lips frowning making his wide face seem even wider. "Hi," said the man in a low rough voice, "I…don't think I've seen you around here before."

"I'm just moving in. Have to get the rest of my stuff inside."

"Oh. Alright. Well, welcome to the building," said the man in a nearly sarcastic tone.

"Um…thanks…Is there, uh…something wrong?"

"Oh, it's just been a _long damn day_ , that's all." He sighed and then slammed his mailbox shut, ripping the keys out.

"Yeah. I know what you mean. At least it's Friday, right?"

"Guess so. So what's your name, kid?"

"Henry. You?"

"Richard. Richard Braintree."

 _I better not ask him for help,_ thought Henry, _He seems really tired, not to mention annoyed or mad._

"Well, good to meet you, sir," said Henry, shaking hands with Richard.

"You too. Better head to my place now."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye now."

Richard rushed away, nearly stomping through the lobby and up the staircase. He mumbled as he walked.

Henry shrugged his shoulders and then walked left through the double doors leading to Sunderland's room. He reached 105's door and knocked a couple times.

Frank opened up and said, "Hey, Henry. What can I do for ya'?"

"Um…I think I _do_ need some help from James. There's a _lot_ of heavy stuff."

"Oh sure," said Frank, then turning inside the room, "It's Henry. Says he needs help moving his things."

"Okay," said James.

James came to the door and Henry stepped back.

"Hi," said Henry, "Thanks for offering to help."

"Oh, it's no problem. Like I said, I have time tonight."

James closed the door to 105 and walked with Henry down the hallway.

"Hey, um…" said Henry, "Do you know a guy named Richard Braintree?"

"I think I've heard my dad talk about him. Not much, but I know enough to not mess with him. At least to watch out."

"Oh gosh. Really?"

"Yeah. I guess my dad says there's this rumor around the building that he has a giant revolver in his room. Someone thought they saw him with it through the window, but maybe they were wrong. I don't know why people might make things up like that. I guess to just get attention or create entertainment. Plus Braintree seems like an overall grump from what I've heard too."

"Yeah," said Henry, opening the double doors to the lobby and letting James through, "He seems really annoyed or angry. I just met him a few minutes ago. He was getting his mail."

"Thanks," said James, "Braintree, him, I just don't know. I would at least look out."

"Yeah."

James opened the door to the outside and then Henry followed him out to the steps. They walked through the lot and to Henry's car.

"Yup. _Lots_ of stuff," said James and chuckled.

Henry smiled and said, "Yeah."

"So, where do we start? How about the dresser?"

"Alright."

James and Henry unfastened all the bungee cords on all the furniture and lifted the dark brown wooden decorative dresser out of the back of the trailer.

"Here. I have a dolly here too," said Henry, reaching into the trailer and pulling the red and silver dolly out, "I can wheel it in. I just need help getting it up the damn stairs."

"Okay," said James, "Let's get it on it. Here, you grab that end and I'll grab this one."

So they moved the dresser on the dolly and Henry wheeled it in. James held the door as Henry wheeled it into the lobby. The black rubber wheels turned across the old brown carpet causing it to buckle a couple times.

" _God,_ " said Henry, "This damn carpet."

"Yeah I know, sorry," said James tiredly, "Dad's planning on replacing it but he's a little short right now."

 _Maybe_ I _can pop a little cash for Sunderland. This is really stupid,_ thought Henry, _Guess I didn't know the carpet out here would act up_ this _bad until I really worked it._

Henry stopped and James helped him carry the dresser carefully up the stairs. They had to rest every so often because the dresser was so heavy.

Reaching second floor, Henry took a deep breath and set his end of the dresser down. James set his end down too.

"Man, that's heavy," said Henry, "I remember buying it in Silent Hill. It took a lot of muscle to get it home."

"How come you bought it? I mean…weren't there lighter ones?" James chuckled.

"Well…I don't know. Something about it. I just really liked the designs."

"Yeah. Well How about we get it up the next flight? We can wheel it some of the ways, like this level to the next stair set."

"Alright then," said Henry, going back downstairs to grab the dolly.

Henry wheeled the dresser across the second landing then James helped him carry it up to third floor. Along the way they came across a woman descending the stairs in a green tank top and jeans. She had medium length brown hair that partly hid her face.

"Oops," said the woman as she moved out of the way, "Excuse me. Oh, hi, James."

James strained to say, "Hi."

The woman continued down the stairs and disappeared.

As Henry and James reached third floor, they set the dresser down. James sighed.

"Hey, who was that?" said Henry.

"Oh. That was Eileen. Real nice gal. I forget which place she's in though. You'll probably see her again sooner or later."

"Oh. Alright. We only have a little ways to go now. Let's go."

"Here I'll get the doors."

"Okay."

Henry wheeled the dresser the rest of the way down the hall and to his apartment. He unlocked the door and wheeled the dresser inside.

"Over there. By the wall next to the kitchen," said Henry, "Should be a good spot."

James and Henry set the dresser right next to the wall partition separating the kitchen from the living room, then scooted it closer to the wall.

"Phew," said Henry, "Well, we did it. Thanks."

"Welcome. Nice room."

"Ha thanks."

 _Yeah it's nice,_ thought Henry as he looked around at the drab grey walls and worn window sills below the dirty glass, _considering it's a step up from a roach-infested junkyard. And that's about it._ Henry laughed quietly to himself.

"What's funny?" asked James, smiling.

"Oh…uh, nothin'," said Henry, "Just something that happened the other day. That's all."

 _That was close,_ thought Henry, _If he knew the truth he'd maybe take offense. And I'd hate to get things off to a bad start._

"Oh. Well what do you say we go get something else?" said James.

"Alright. Let's go."

They walked back out of the apartment and headed back down the hall. Then they went through the double doors to the stairs. As they walked down the stairs, Henry asked, "So, you said you have a girlfriend or wife? What's her name again?"

"Mary. She's my wife. We just got married a few months ago in Portwater. She lives with me here in Ashfield," said James.

"Oh okay. Where's Portwater?"

"Oh it's about an hour drive north of here."

"Yeah, I've never heard of that town. Is it kind of small?"

"Guess so, kind of an obscure little place," said James as he and Henry reached the lobby. They then walked out the front doors again and over to Henry's car.

That's how it was for the next couple hours or so. James helped Henry carry the rest of the big items inside to his apartment: the T.V. set, the T.V. stand, the cabinet book shelf, the coffee table, the couch, the mattresses with the bed frame, and the desk.

They hauled the desk down the hallway to the bedroom on the left, and placed it at the foot of the bed. It thumped and skidded on the carpet as they moved it around.

"There. Right there's good," said Henry, "I think that's all the big stuff. I can get the rest. Thanks for all your help."

"Oh, no big. Good exercise."

"Heh, yeah.

"Wow. It's already nine-thirteen. I better get going. I told Mary I'd be home around nine or ten."

"Alright, then," said Henry, walking out of the room and down the hall as James trailed behind, "How about I walk with you down to the lobby. Do you want to say goodbye to your dad?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"Okay."

So Henry went out the apartment door with James and locked the door. They walked down the hall and back down to the lobby. When they reached the front, James headed towards the left to Frank's room.

Henry said, "Bye, James. I'll just finish getting my other stuff inside. Thanks again."

"Yeah. Nice to meet you. Take care."

"Yeah. You too."

Henry walked out the door to the dark parking lot. The lamp posts cast yellowish light down to the blacktop and the parked vehicles. He walked over to his trailer and dug out a box labeled "Kitchen Supplies" in permanent marker.

In the distance Henry heard car tires screech. He looked towards the road but saw nothing, then carried the box inside.

Henry finished carrying everything inside around ten-thirty; he found his garage and parked his car inside.

Soon after Henry ordered a delivery of Chinese food and scrimped on the tip. Eating slowly, he sat at one of the two barstools at the kitchen counter. And the leftovers he saved in the fridge.

Finally midnight, Henry sighed looking around at all the boxes stacked up in the living room and thought, _Man, there's so much crap. At least I have the weekend to get some of this sorted out._

Henry dug in boxes for soap and shampoo. He showered. He retired to his bedroom and sat at the desk against the wall at the end of the bed, turning the small desk lamp on. He paged through some newspaper clippings in his dark binder and wrote a few notes on a "To Do" list. Then he went and sat on his bed. He thought, _Wow. My new apartment. It's finally a reality. And a new higher paying job. That's what I'm thrilled about. Look out world. Here I come._


End file.
